Whose loue did ende before my ioys begunne.
Fond Loue is blinde, and so art thou (my Deare)
For thou seest not my Loue, and great desart;
Blinde Loue is fond, and so thou dost appeare;
For fond, and blinde, thou greeust my greeuing hart;
Be thou fond-blinde, blinde-fond, or one, or all;
Thou art my Loue, and I must be thy thrall.
Oh lend thine yuorie fore-head for Loues Booke,
Thine eyes for candles to behold the same;